Seduced by a river and the numerous birds of spring

It's a kind of game for some birders: how to get reluctant friends and family to unintentionally succumb to the charms of our hobby. (Hint: Don't play bird-song CDs in the car.) Recently I employed the distraction technique with great success. My conspirators were one scenic river, a couple of rubber rafts, adventurous friends and a festival with snakes.

My plot began to play out on the banks of the Yakima River, in the Umtanum Creek Recreation Area. The next morning we'd join folks from Vashon-Maury Audubon to float down 13 miles of the river through the curving Yakima Canyon between Ellensburg and Selah. Sherry Bottoms, our trip leader, hoped for Lewis' woodpeckers, osprey, canyon wrens and golden eagles. I talked up river speed and rattlesnakes while I secretly cleaned my binoculars.

Birds on cue

As the sun set on columnar basalt cliffs across the river, we were enjoying the high that only comes from successfully pitching a tent before dark. Tree and cliff swallows dipped and swooped, glided and careened as my husband sipped a beer from the comfort of his camp chair and my 6-year-old tried her hand at casting a fly.

Rafting Yakima Canyon

Outfitter

We used Rill Adventure Raft & Gear Rental in Thorp, Kittitas County. 509-964-2520 or www.rillsonline.com.

Rafts, kayaks and river guides available. Rafts from $65-$105 per day, delivered to river; kayaks $40-$50 per day.

Owner Ninon Rill Wheatley recommends the lower Yakima for first-time rafters because of its generally mild nature. "There are so many places to stop and picnic or swim, and so much to see — like the mountain sheep, birds and basalt cliffs."

Learn more

The "Get Intimate with the Shrub-Steppe!" event is organized each May by the Kittitas Environmental Education Network at the Umtanum Creek Recreation Area in Yakima Canyon. For more information: www.kittitasee.net or 509-962-1520.

"They look like they wonder what we're doing," she said of the imposing, lichen-painted rock formations. The air was heavy with the head-clearing scent of warmed sagebrush, and river song drowned out all evidence of nearby campers. It didn't hurt my scheme when a male Western tanager — cocky yellow with a red head — swooped in to give us the eye. "Wow!" we tried not to shout in unison. Our friends soon joined us and together we watched the Big Dipper pour into view. So far, so good.

Birds are everywhere you look in the Yakima Canyon this time of year. Their sheer volume, diverse habits and array of colors are enough to make the nonbirder take notice. We had a surprise visit from a flock of American white pelicans before we even boarded our raft the next morning. Kids and adults alike craned their necks to get a better look as these birds with 9-foot wingspans spiraled up to catch thermals.

Known as a family-friendly float, the lower Yakima is listed as a Class I on the International Scale of River Difficulty, indicating "moving water, riffles and small waves." Just right for keeping your binoculars steady.

Bottoms easily organized us into two groups: One raft was full of binoculars you really wouldn't want to lose overboard, and ours bounced with three kids younger than 7 — the snack boat. We grabbed paddles and clipped on our lifejackets, then pushed off and downriver. From those pelicans onward, the avian show never let up. "Look!" and "Did you see that?!" were heard from the young ones almost as much as "I'm still hungry." My worries about the kids getting bored disappeared like a warbler from a treetop.

Squawking great blue herons crisscrossed in front of the bow, red-winged blackbirds showed off their bright-red shoulder pads, and a golden eagle nudged cliff edges, bombarded by raucous crows. As if on cue, bird after bird graciously appeared. In addition to their sheer numbers, their varying habits were striking: turkey vultures flying tipsily like they couldn't quite get their balance, kestrels hovering like helicopters over oblivious prey. Bullock's orioles whistled and barked, their orange plumage gleaming, while magpies — royalty of the corvid family — landed with long iridescent tail feathers pointing haughtily skyward. As thick as swarming bees, clouds of cliff swallows darted over us to complete hive-like mud nests on rocky overhangs.

Enter the snakes

Our trip coincided with the annual "Get Intimate with the Shrub-Steppe!" event, so our planned lunch stop was home to a bustling educational festival, organized by Kittitas Environmental Education Network. As we off-loaded our rafts, biologists from Central Washington University introduced us to the fish we'd been paddling just inches above. While our sister raft of birders headed up the trail in search of canyon wren and lazuli bunting, the kids ran to meet who was in the glass tanks of the herpetology department. As our children petted snakes, examined native dioramas and made binoculars out of cardboard tubes, we parents "got intimate" with the shrub-steppe from a seated position, admiring the sunflowerlike blooms of balsamroot while munching salmon jerky and goat cheese.

After a day that proffered welcome surprises as readily as the canyon peeled off birds, I wasn't too surprised to find out that "umtanum" means contentment in the Yakama language. The deer were plentiful there in early spring, so the people could hunt, find herbs and celebrate the end of the snows. In a word, contentment was the theme of our trip, whether defined by adding a bird to your life list, coloring and constructing a pinwheel, hiking through aspen groves or jumping headlong into the icy river at the end of the day.

And even if they don't know it yet, I'm confident that our river trip hatched some brand-new birders.

Kathryn True is a freelance writer who lives on Vashon Island. She is on the board of her local Audubon chapter and is co-author of "Nature in the City: Seattle" (The Mountaineers Books).